


overture

by pouty



Series: entropy [2]
Category: TWICE (Band)
Genre: F/F, pls read notes for small warning just in case thx
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-24 02:19:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15620355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pouty/pseuds/pouty
Summary: sometimes she chased the shore, but sometimes it chased her.





	overture

**Author's Note:**

> **SMALL WARNING: there’s implied/mentioned self harm but nothing depth or graphic on it. v small portion. and drug use (not abuse)**
> 
> AND AN IMPORTANT NOTE: not a direct continuation of the first part. i’ll leave where this falls up to your imagination, but the least i can do is throw ya a bone and tell u it doesn’t take place right after figure 8. i think that’s all. (tell me any and all interpretations u have too if u want, if you’re close i’ll let u know)

_ “Is it not tiring to have to put on a different mask each day, for each and every person you meet?” _

 

_ “Of course it is. That’s why the bags under your eyes are just as prominent as mine.” _

 

_ Nayeon smiles at her witty jab, toothy grin inextinguishable, a complete juxtaposition to the straight faced girl in front of her; Sana, her favorite person, her silent sin. _

 

_ Usually their roles are reversed, which is why it’s so unsettling that Sana lacks any laughter, any amusement. Nayeon keeps her smile up high awkwardly, lips sagging a bit, twitching to keep their place. _

 

_ Sana’s anger seems to shake the black coffee table beside them, delicate plates shaking violently. She had that affect sometimes, so absolutely passionate that she would shake up a whole room - or Nayeon’s head… heart, whichever was more readily available that day. _

 

_ _________ _

  
  


Nayeon winces at the pain in her left hand, but continues to strum, numb to the sweat, to the cramp in her forearm, to the blisters on her fingers, to the emptiness all throughout her body. All in all, it’s been an empty 17 years in a far too warm suburban town a mere steps away from the areas where crime runs rampant. She doesn’t know how she got here, where her family is, where she belongs… she’s been roaming in search of purpose her whole life, and the only thing that gives her a similar rush to what she  _ thinks _ is purpose only courses through her when she plays this guitar.

 

“You’re getting good, Nayeon,” the shop owner says. While he knew her name, she knew him simply as Mr. Toe, a harmless take on his full last name, Minatozaki.

 

“Thanks, Toe. Closing up early for the day?” she asks, setting the worn guitar down gently, strings reverberating as if it were weeping.

 

“Unfortunately. Want to enjoy the beach with my family since school is out today, ya know. Tomorrow my daughter should be taking over most of the shop hours once she’s through with that, though.”

 

Nayeon nods, not fully listening, just wondering what she’d do out on the boardwalk today… something reckless, something dumb, all of the above? Who knows?

 

“Sucks you became a street kid so early. Could have went to school with her,” he says mindlessly, beginning to lock all the cabinets.

 

“I’m sure she’s bright. I don’t think I would have had classes with her either way,” she says honestly. She scratches at a scab on her leg subconsciously as she speaks, then thinks over her words, wondering what this nice man’s daughter must be like. But her focus has been poor lately if it isn’t the guitar, and she shrugs off the thought as quickly as it comes.

 

Nayeon looks at the walls in the front of the store. They’re entirely glass, and she gets lost in what’s outside of them as the man continues to speak, his words nothing but a far off vibration as she stares past the empty boardwalk and off into the ocean. It seems to tug her like the moon would with the same water, but she never liked swimming. Part of her thinks she’d prefer flying, but she’s never got on a plane before. Still, though, she finds herself infatuated with the sky, with heights, anything that gets her mind off the ground.

 

The one sided conversation continues until Nayeon spots someone she knows, a blonde girl far too pale for her own good. Sunny 24/7 but not a hint of tan in her. And the worst: she’s all too friendly and energetic for her own introverted personality. But they make it work.

 

“...and her name is-“ she hears him say, but she is totally uninterested.

 

“Gotta go, Toe!” Nayeon says, hearing the customer bell ring as she opens the door and runs off. The ocean winds flow through her hair, small backpack slamming against her back as she runs to her uncanny friend.

 

“Sup, Nayeon,” she draws out as a puff of smoke leaves her mouth. She was clearly already baked, eyes lazy and body swaying as a tree would in the wind.

 

“Well, don’t hog it all, loser,” Nayeon laughs, snatching the small blunt from her weak grasp and taking a long drag. 

 

“It’s  _ my _ weed.  _ Dahyun’s  _ weed, not Nayeon’s,” she says, eyes half lidded and droopy as she speaks, words slurring.

 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Where to?” she nods her head foreword.

 

“I dunno. All I can handle right now is that bench over there,” she mumbles, thinking really hard about walking straight as she strides over there. It’s right under a palm tree.

 

Nayeon takes a pebble and throws it past her, awaiting her reaction.

 

“Shit!!!” she starts to run cautiously, hands over her head. “Is this tree dropping… coconuts? The fuck.”

 

Nayeon laughs, taking as many puffs as she pleases since the girl is distracted.

 

“No dummy, I threw a pebble at you,” there’s smoke that leaves her mouth as she speaks, unable to hold back her smile and laughter at the girl. She coughs a bit.

 

“Oh!” Dahyun smiles, sitting in front of the bench and stretching her legs out on the sand. Nayeon would scold her for sitting in  _ front _ of the bench rather than  _ on _ it, but it’s clear why, so she keeps her mouth shut as she joins her.

 

“Here,” she says, passing it below her as she makes herself comfortable on the stiff wood. Part of her misses beds - or rather, the guest bedroom mattress Dahyun lets her conk out on from time to time. The soft flowy material reminds her of the clouds. What they might feel like. She looks up now, realizing she has a home up there somewhere, just astray to it. But she’s also already five puffs into the blunt, so maybe she’s just high. 

 

And she’s right. When her body feels the urge to float up, she figures the big hits she took finally hit  _ her _ , that she’s talking crazy. Thankfully it’s all in her head. The same head she shakes, attempting to  _ literally  _ shake the thoughts away. She decides to listen in on what her friend is ranting about to escape wherever her brain was leading her.

 

“Thank  _ god _ school is finished,” Dahyun moans defeatedly. Her head is thrown back on the seat part of the bench, looking at Nayeon, who has her arms crossed and her eyes focused on the shore.

 

“I can hang out with my best friend more!” she mumbles excitedly, hugging Nayeon’s leg.

 

Nayeon feels bad for the girl. A smart, straight A student so stressed out she turns to recreational drug use. It works for her, sure, but sometimes she wonders if Dahyun isn’t as happy as she makes herself seem. Why else would someone with a bright future befriend a bum on the street? In that way, Dahyun was her angel.

 

“Aren’t you going into senior year? Visit some colleges or something,” Nayeon says, unsure of when the blunt came back into her hand. Somewhere before or after the leg hugging, she thinks.

 

“Eh, I’ll just do two years at community college or something,” she says, clearly lacking any care.

 

“You’re too smart for that,” she coaxes, free hand running through her hair.

 

“But too broke for a four year college,” she snuggles into her leg, cheek rubbing against the denim.

 

Nayeon doesn’t argue that. Dahyun has told her tuition numbers time and time again and she never fails to jump back at them. Where these facilities expect high school students to get that money, Nayeon doesn’t know. She looks down at the girl, free hand in her hair, seeing exactly why someone like her would love the high the thing in her other hand supplies.

 

“Can we go to my house? I think my first day of summer should be reserved for a well deserved nap,” Dahyun says defeatedly, getting up and trailing a bunch of sand onto the bench.

 

“Are your parents home?” she says, concerned of Dahyun’s current state. Nayeon couldn't tell if her parents were cool or really naive, but even so Dahyun was a little _ too _ worse for words to confront them now. 

 

“No. They get home at 6:00, and it’s only 3:00, I think,” she takes her phone out of her pocket and checks. “Heh, I’m right,” she laughs. “Plus, even if they were, you know they love you.”

 

“I know, I’m not worried about me,” she gets up, clearly lesser of the two inebriated souls as she dusts them both free of sand. “Just you.”

 

“Whatever, you worry wart,” she links arms with Nayeon, happily leaning on her shoulder. “Now try and not walk too fast.”

 

_ _ _

  
  


Nayeon stares at the ceiling from beside Dahyun. It took them a bit longer than they thought to get back to the house. Five hours, to be exact. (In their defense, they kept getting distracted by window shopping, and of course Nayeon talking Dahyun out of it.) They got to the house completely tired from the high, and now the girl cuddles up to her, drooling on her shoulder as she rests up. She feels for her like she would for a younger sister, though at times it feels like the girl was insane. Always trying to help her instead of herself. Things Nayeon would never do for someone unless she was in love with them, maybe. 

 

Not that she was good at reading people, clearly, if every interaction with a human in her life up to this point proves anything. But none of that stops her from holding the girl tightly, wanting nothing more than to comfort her as she wished someone would do for her. It makes her feel at ease to know she’s solace for Dahyun, and it’s something to help her keep going. Nayeon wonders if love, no matter how platonic, always felt this warm. Like a blanket in the winter, or bread freshly stolen from the bakery. It lulls her into a dreamless sleep. At least, she thinks it will. 

 

_ _________ _

  
  


_ It’s like they’re trapped in their own little pod as they kiss, white debris everywhere as they roll in it, giggle in it, moan in it - otherwise connecting in a way they never thought possible _ .  _ Nayeon’s fingers skate across Sana’s skin; the sensitive, tingling skin. _

 

_ Sana whines softly, slightly pushing Nayeon off of her and looking up at her with glossy eyes. _

 

_ “Do you ever think… maybe… someone’s watching?” _

 

_ “No,” Nayeon lies, though her practiced heavenly smile eases her partner, feeling her tense a little less underneath her palms.  _

 

_ “We do the watching. Nothing can hurt us.” _

 

_ Neither of them believe the last sentence, but it’s enough for them to feel a little less guilty as they kiss with a heat so mighty it scares them both.  _

 

_ Because they can’t get enough, and they never want to. _

 

_ _________ _

  
  


She dreams of nothing and everything all at once, startled awake by a jolt of energy she isn’t sure the source of.

 

But when her body shoots up, and her ears fully tune to her environment, it’s just the sound of Dahyun’s alarm that wakes her.

 

_ 10:00am? _ she thinks. A whole twelve hours or more?

 

Guilt washes over her. Nayeon already feels like she’s overstayed her welcome. Thankfully, Dahyun was a deep sleeper, so after a kiss to her forehead, she easily could climb out of her bedroom window without a peep from the girl.

 

She doesn’t go without a note, though. It explains where Nayeon would be, for her to not worry (she always does, and does too much), that she left because she didn’t want to be a burden. As she writes her feelings out she does feel a bit drastic. (Where did she learn how to write, anyway?) But it’s her feelings nonetheless, and she’d rather own them than be afraid of them.

 

-

 

Without a place to go, Nayeon liked to just take on her surroundings. She liked to watch the pigeons brawl over a couple breadcrumbs, or watch couples playfully dunk each other as she let the shore touch her toes. She had become overly introspective as of late, recalling her actions in the past, the harshest memories stinging her eyes and making her shake. She tries to convince herself it's time to move on, from the pain of not knowing or having a family, to all the pain she’s caused on others living this life. She wants to vow to enjoy the rest of the curse of life, wants to stop chasing the impossible. 

 

And she knows she can, but can it do the same for her? Sometimes she chased the shore, but sometimes it chased her.

 

(Nayeon wishes she knew where these feelings came from.)

 

Nayeon gets up, suddenly feeling the urge to punch at the the invisible, intangible, indecipherable inevitable. But she stays calm, only kicking the shoreline a bit when the ocean reaches her. Anger was the worst emotion to rid of when there was nowhere to call home.

 

She walks away, in search of an escape from her thoughts. All she could think of was the music store. Specifically the light blue electric guitar in it with the softest sound Nayeon could imagine. Again it reminds her of the sky, morphing eternally into a sunset. Nayeon couldn't imagine herself playing any other guitar.

 

When metal heads come in and “shred,” as they like to say, Nayeon just cringed at the harshness. To the strumming, tuning, and wavy Slash wannabe hair, everything about it felt forced. She was content with the one she eyed on her first visit and used it ever since. It tuned softly, played kindly, as she liked to say. Nayeon thinks Mr. Toe called it Rickenbacker, or maybe Rickenmorty… either way she doesn’t care, just plays until her fingers bleed.

 

Her feet can’t help but take her there by late afternoon at the thought of it.

 

_ _________ _

  
  


She opens the front door casually, bell sound followed by an “I’ll be there in a second!” Nayeon doesn’t think much of the voice, although she noticed it’s female, and clearly not her beloved Mr. Toe. Still, she goes to the playing area near the counter and picks out the guitar that plucks her heart strings - the one so kind for letting her pluck its strings in return. It’s right where she left it, next to the stand in the sitting area of the playing section.

 

Without a moment's hesitation, she begins to tune it. She hears a jostling in the back after playing all the strings in one fell swoop, and it makes her nervous, hand stopping the strings with her palm.

 

Nothing follows but silence.

 

She begins again, plucking each string with the pick Mr. Toe gave her. He had let her pick one, and the comical Pac-Man-esque ghost with angel wings and a halo called her name. It was a tie between that one and one with “god is idle” in minimalist lettering. Now, with the winner of the two between her thumb and index, she feels free.

 

Once she warms up she plays some self taught riffs, a couple hooks Mr. Toe taught her, but mostly freestyles. That is, until the girl in the back comes dashing out of the back closet, followed by an avalanche of boxes.

 

“I almost died!” she says all too seriously, running a hand through her hair. She’s beautiful, at that. With a sharp nose and glistening eyes. Then she faces her…

 

Nayeon gulps, hands sweating and sliding down the neck of the guitar. She smiles at her, and Nayeon sweats from her forehead now, taking the guitar strap off her neck and standing up.

 

“Do you need some help?” she blurts out without thinking.

 

“Yeah, please?” she says, wiping some dust off her jeans. Nayeon looks down at her own tattered attire, worn blue skinny jeans and a huge black shirt with holes and worn down blotchy shoes to match. Dahyun had bought her all of it, but that was a while back, and Nayeon had been a more reckless spirit back then. Hence the holes in both the shirt and shoes. Her reasoning behind the big size was because it was the cheapest thing in clearance, and although Dahyun was willing to be a big spender, Nayeon argued enough for her not to be.

 

The girl goes to the boxes and starts opening them, and Nayeon jogs up next to her, rambling a bunch of sorry’s when her hand brushes up against her backside.

 

“It’s alright,” she laughs, bumping shoulders with her. Then she goes back to checking the contents of the box, holding up the guitar and examining it.

 

“What do you think?” she asks, and at that Nayeon realizes she was staring more at the girl than the guitar.

 

“I- uh,” she looks at it, mind too foggy to truly think about what she’s seeing. “Yeah.”

 

The girl giggles again, then shoves her a bit. “No, really, do you think it’s okay? I don’t know if this scratch looks new or not…” she studies it, frowning slightly.

 

“Unless it’s the design?” she asks no one in particular, corner of her mouth coming up and telling Nayeon she was focused more than she thought.

 

“I’ve seen Mr. Toe get scratches out before. Maybe he-“

 

“Who?” she asks, smiling wryly. She puts the item down, full attention on Nayeon. It makes her ten times more nervous than she already was.

 

“The- uh… the owner,  _ crap _ , I meant-“

 

“My dad?” she laughs uncontrollably now, hand covering her mouth as she loses it. Nayeon can’t help but laugh too, even when the girl is literally about to fall over from it.

 

“Careful,” she says through their laughter, steadying her by the arms. She grabs her back, hands on each other’s forearms stuck like glue to each other as they just share glances and laugh. Nayeon never saw someone so willing to laugh. Never witnessed someone so easily brought to tears by her flub.

 

“I think I love you already,” she wipes a tear from her eye, then lets go of Nayeon completely. “I’m Sana by the way,  _ Mr. Toe’s _ one and only offspring. You?”

 

“Nayeon,” she smiles comfortably. “Nice to meet you.”

 

Sana nods and moves onto another box. “Are you from around here?” she asks as she rummages through the styrofoam.

 

“Uh…” Nayeon doesn’t know what to say, going to an unopened box and mirroring Sana. “I guess.”

 

“Wrong answer, Nayeon. I know you’re a street kid,” she says casually. Nayeon’s face gets red and hot. “My dad has told me a lot about you. Street kid, nowhere to go, hangs out here more often than not. I can't believe we’ve never met until now.”

 

Nayeon stays silent as she takes the guitar out, looking for any damages.

 

“Wait… come here,” she says, and Nayeon looks up with questioning puppy eyes.

 

Sana pushes the box out of the way and pats to the space in front of her.

 

Nayeon’s heart races as she scoots between Sana’s legs. She looks concerned, and for a second Nayeon thinks of the worst, hands shaky with every inch that decreases between them.

 

“Can I see your hands?” 

 

Nayeon swears her heart relocates to her throat at the question, at her soft hands reaching for her own bruised ones, breathing heavy as she examines her fingers.

 

“You have a lot of blisters,” she frowns, looking up at a very pale Nayeon.

 

“Ha, yeah… from guitar,” she says nervously. She feels her eyes examine her arms too, but she doesn’t ask questions, just gets up.

 

“I’m gonna get some bandaids and stuff, okay? Wait here.”

 

Nayeon nods, relieved when she leaves the room. She looks at her arms, examines the scars there. Not  _ all _ were her doing, even if they were her fault. The worst one was from a crazy baker she stole bread from once, a lot were from her inability to leave a stray dog alone. A majority were from a scratching habit she didn’t think belonged to her, and a scarce few were from some violent mood swings (Nayeon never knew how to deal with hunger pangs as a kid). A lot were healed and barely there, but there was enough for someone to ask questions, certainly.

 

Which is why she feels uneasy when Sana returns, first aid kit in one hand and miscellaneous ointments and such in the other.

 

She plops down in front of her and takes out a pack of bandaids.

 

“I only have cartoon band aids, if that’s okay?”

 

Nayeon only nods, voice still caught in her throat. Before she knows it she’s decked out from thumb to pinkie with everything from Teen Titans to Hello Kitty.

 

“Thank you,” Nayeon says softly, looking at her colorful hands.

 

“Now, I’m not gonna beat around the bush, and I hope you don’t either…” she says ominously. Anxiety boils in Nayeon’s stomach again.

 

“Are… the scars here from you?” she says, grabbing her arm. She doesn’t look at it, just keeps eye contact.

 

“Somewhat,” she says truthfully… shakily.

 

“We just met, so you don’t have to tell me anything, obviously,” she says, letting her go. She takes out some ointment and gauze. “But I won’t have a peace of mind until you let me help you.”

 

Nayeon feels the urge to tell her everything, overwhelming her so much tears threaten to flood her cheeks. But she shakes it off, as much as she can, at least. “Go ahead,” she says, voice strained a bit.

 

Her heart leaps a bit as Sana gets to work, caking her arm with ointment. The motions she does are so fluent, as if she was born to be a caretaker.

 

“Have you done this before?” she asks with a kind but tired smile.

 

“Yes. For myself,” she says, words emotionless as she’s entirely focused on Nayeon.

 

“Oh- wow, um-“

 

“Not in that way,” she smiles, beaming in a way that eases something far deeper than her heart. Her soul, maybe. “I just had a bad scratching habit and-“

 

“No way! Me too!” she says far too excitedly. Mostly because she feels a lot less crazy, but also since it’s a chance to bury the past.

 

She smiles back somewhat sadly. “Then this will work, trust me,” she says, closing the ointment and taking out two rolls of gauze. “This will make it impossible to scratch at your arms. Not the best fashion statement, but it worked like a charm!”

 

“Thank you, again. Seriously, I mean it,” Nayeon says, face close to hers.

 

“Don’t mention it,” she says, wrapping the fabric around about three or four times. Nayeon didn’t care to count, too in love with Sana’s touch.

 

“It’s like you have angel hands. You should do nursing or something,” Nayeon says, compliment leaving her mouth on a whim. She’s happy to see Sana blush at it, satisfied at how her hands stutter for a moment.

 

“Ah, too competitive a field. I’ll just be a vet or something like that.”

 

“Cute,” Nayeon smiles. “Maybe you can convince the stray dogs I pet not to attack me.”

 

“I dunno. If you pet me I’d probably pounce on you, too.”

 

Nayeon’s eyebrows raise, cheeks reddening.

 

“In the scenario of me being a wild dog, I mean,” she chokes out. They laugh softly at each other, sharing awkward glances.

 

“I ruined the moment, didn’t I?”

 

“Not at all.”

 

(Nayeon’s a bit wary of her, to say the least.)

 

They sit in comfortable silence as Sana finishes up the roll of gauze and tucks everything into place. Nayeon thanks her a plethora more times after she’s finished and while they make sure the rest of the inventory isn’t scratched. 

 

“Really,  _ really really really _ , thank y-“ Sana puts a finger to her lips.

 

“Don’t thank me for being a decent human being,” she says, giving Nayeon a swift boop to her nose before turning back to her work.

 

Nayeon tries to work normally after that, shifting through box after box with an odd kick in her step. She feels a bit sad when Sana goes to help a customer, blaming it on her lack of guitar knowledge and hatred for being wrong. She doesn’t  _ try _ to listen in on the conversations, but she hears some, filled with instrument vocabulary Nayeon could only dream of knowing. 

 

When the shop closes and they finish sorting through the boxes, Nayeon is hit with her own harsh reality; finding somewhere to sleep tonight, walking through the dim streets paranoid, switchblade she hides behind her ankle in her shoe in the day like a fidget toy in her hand at night. The same blade that marked up her skin a few times, both on accident and on purpose. She hates to even think about either of the two, how harsh people could be - people including herself.

 

“Looks like it’s time for me to head home,” Sana says as she pushes the last box inside the closet. “It’s not my place, but… can I ask if you’ll be okay tonight? If… if I’ll see you tomorrow?”

 

Nayeon gives her a defeated smile, wanting to take her hands and reassure her. But she figures that’s too forward, that they’re strangers to each other, after all. She’d always been touchy and notices her own irrationality at the inward scolding, but clenches her fists anyway.

 

“Don’t worry about me, okay?” she says as convincingly as she can. “I’ll see you tomorrow, promise. I come here everyday regardless.”

 

“I guess I’ll have to take your word,” she says, looking as if she’s about to reach for her but doesn’t, just waves awkwardly. “Stay safe.”

 

“Got it,” Nayeon says dejectedly, knowing anything could happen no matter what a well off girl in a guitar shop says. She walks off slowly, knowing what’s beyond the door isn’t a car, isn’t a goat, no Monty Hall, no second chance. Just stragglers hoping they catch someone rich at the dead of night.

 

_______

  
  


_ “So… what are we going to do about them?” Nayeon says, legs dangling off the edge. Sana would worry for her if she wasn’t doing the same, although not as enthusiastically. _

 

_ “I don’t know,” she answers as Nayeon munches on an apple, an ironic sight considering the things protruding from her back.  _

 

_ “Part of me feels like we should report it,” she says through a mouthful, swallowing harshly. Then she takes Sana’s hand and kisses every knuckle. “Part of me doesn’t want to draw too much attention to us.” _

 

_ “Too risky. If they find out we’re reporting falsely we’ll get in big trouble,” she sighs, flipping her hand palm side up to caress under Nayeon’s chin. _

 

_ She scrunches her face, “since when were you the rational one?”  _

 

_ “Always,” Sana wants to say, but Nayeon grabs her wrist and pulls her closer. Sana is startled as she feels the earth crumble a bit underneath her, grabbing Nayeon’s hand hard to steady herself.  _

 

_ “Besides, what’s the worst they can do? Send us back to training? That’s hardly a punishment. A blessing, even.” Nayeon speaks low into her ear, arm wrapping around her waist. Sana melts into the touch and her voice, but tries to stay level headed. _

 

_ “Surely you remember Sector 5,” she feels Nayeon smile against her ear. _

 

_ “I do,” Sana practically whines. “But we almost got caught several times and you know it.” _

 

_ “Sometimes things are not as rewarding without the risk,” she kisses along her jaw before reaching her lips. She opens easily, getting lost in the feeling when Nayeon slides her tongue in. But she pulls away when she realizes she’s getting swept away by it, grabbing Nayeon by the collar and pushing her off. _

 

_ “So what you’re saying is that you’re going to do what I say and tell the higher ups?” Sana smiles. _

 

_ “I’ll tell you how I feel after a few more kisses. Promise,” she smiles back, heart fluttering when their lips meet again. _

 

_______

  
  


Nayeon jumps awake yet again, this time in a skatepark under the ramps.

 

She doesn’t entirely remember walking here, exhausted and daydreaming vividly of talking to a girl on a cliff. It’s odd, and the faceless figure reminded her of Sana, but she fell asleep before she could sort it out.

 

She’s startled out of her groggy state further at the thumping above her. There’s no way for her to know the time, but surely it was way too early to skate.

 

Nayeon hobbles out from beneath the structure, rubbing her eyes and patting down her hair as she looks to see who prevented her from going back to sleep.

 

“Dahyun?”

 

“Morning sleepyhead,” the blonde runs down the ramp and ruffles her hair back up, laughing at her groan.

 

“How did you even find me?” Nayeon asks, completely bewildered as to how she’d know where she’d pass out. 

 

“You’re not as indecipherable as you think, you know. You’ve told me specifically where you stay when you don’t stay at my house plenty of times, and I have a car, so it’s not hard to check any one of the three locations,” she says flatly. Nayeon doesn’t know whether to be flattered by how much she cares or ashamed by her own lack of transparency. “Now stop running away, would you? You don’t need to run from the good things... the people trying to help you,” she says sadly.

 

“I’m sorry,” she says.

 

“No need to apologize. I get why you act the way you do,” she hugs her loosely. But Nayeon tightens it. Dahyun whimpers slightly, but squeezes back just as hard. “It’s hard to trust when you’ve had no one for most of your life, but we’ve been friends for like, what? Five years? You have to let me in that noggin of yours at some point,” she knocks on her forehead, and Nayeon gives her a small smile.

 

“Trust me, no one needs to open my Pandora’s box of a mind,” she says, laughing at the metaphor. “But thank you.”

 

“I’m in no rush to have you open up. Just giving you the offer,” she reassures. “But no one stands up my mother, ‘cause I told her you’d come over for breakfast so that’s exactly what you’re doing.”

 

Nayeon feels her tummy rumble. “You won’t get a single argument from me. Take me to the promised land, Dubu!”

 

She finally smiles again, getting behind her and pushing her along. “This way, my liege.”

  
  


_

  
  


“And like, she totally rejected me bro. Like straight up. Then I saw her at prom with some stuck up jock! Totally, like, broke my heart or something. You know?” Dahyun says, passing over the small bong and lighter to Nayeon.

 

“I get you dude. You gotta see the girl at the guitar shop, though. Super pretty. Gorgeous. Beautiful. Funny. Kind,” she takes a hit. “Incredible, beautiful-“

 

“You said that already,” Dahyun laughs. “You’re fucked if you head over there like this.”

 

“No, no, no… she’s way out of my league,” Nayeon shakes her head. She feels wrong saying all this, distracted by her own thoughts as the lighter burns her thumb. “Ah, fuck!”

 

“Have you talked to her yet?”

 

“Yeah, man. Who do you think wrapped up my arms like this?” 

 

“I was gonna ask you about that,” she swats away the puff of smoke in her face with a laugh. “Didn’t know if it was super personal, you protecting yourself from mosquitos, or you being edgy.”

 

“You’re not too off with the first two,” she flicks the lighter back on. “Shut up by the way.”

 

Dahyun giggles, pressing skip on the song playing. They were in her basement, which conveniently had a mini living room and speaker setup in it. 

 

“When’s breakfast?” Nayeon asks, feeling the munchies starting to come on.

 

“We ate it forever ago, stupid!” Dahyun slams a hand on the table, wheezing at the question. It makes Nayeon laugh, too, but she's mid toke and starts coughing through her laughter.

 

“Stop laughing, I’m choking,” she only laughs even harder now, wiping a couple tears.

 

“Do you-“ she wheezes, “do you- do you need me to get some gauze for your throat?” she barely gets the sentence out before beginning to roll on the floor.

 

Nayeon starts laughing with her again before she slowly realizes something. Her eyes dart around for a clock. Nothing.

 

“Crap, what time is it Dub?”

 

She clicks on her phone, staring hard at it. “Seven.”

 

“Shit, I gotta be somewhere!” Nayeon darts up the stairs, tripping on every step, followed by Dahyun at the bottom of said stairs.

 

“I can give you a ride!” she says under her breath, truly too tired to even attempt to get up  _ one  _ stair. But Nayeon runs as fast as she can down the boulevard, hoping to get to the shop before it closes up for the day. She promised Sana she’d see her. 

 

She’ll be racing against the clock and the weed clouding her thoughts. The shop closes at eight on Sundays, giving her only an hour. And she’s never been good at directions. But she doesn’t care when or why. A promise is a promise.

  
  
  


The smoke numbs her lungs. She can’t feel anything but her heart racing in her chest as her legs propel her forward, soaring down the boulevard and taking a left onto a street connecting to the boardwalk. She exerts all her energy into speeding up a bit, ignoring the cars trying to pass and the bikers attempting tricks on the concrete. Once she’s at the store she barges in and falls to her knees, wheezing profusely as she tries to get her breath back.

 

“Sana…?” she says when her view of the floor is obstructed by white shoes, looking up to see the perky girl fully upset and concerned.

 

“Are you alright?” she says, crouching down to level with her slumped over body.

 

“I-... I’m sorry I’m late. I promised to come see you, and I almost didn’t. Man, I’m so shitty. It’s not like I was busy or anything. What was I doing? … right, getting high.  _ Fuck _ . I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t worry you or anything, I just-“

 

“Shhhh,” Sana says, not noticing how the girl was rubbing her back and trying to calm her down. “That’s not important. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

 

She holds Nayeon at arms length, taking a look at her face, her eyes, her lips, her nose. “What do you take? Because you smell like cigarettes right now.”

 

“Nothing crazy. Just weed. The wraps smell, but it’s great for not thinking how shit my life is. Plus, they have all kinds of flavors!” she never had a filter when high, even when her brain is telling her to cool it with the girl in front of her, that she was important.

 

“Is it alright if I take you to the mattress in the attic? I’m too scared to let you stand up right now.”

 

“Sure. I’d never say no to you laying me down,” she smirks, and Sana almost drops her at how flustered she gets at the comment. With a nervous laugh, she slings her over her shoulder, taking careful strides to get behind the counter. But Nayeon somehow slips playing with Sana’s hair, saved by Sana grabbing the backs of her thighs and hoisting her legs up to her waist.

 

“Hold on, okay?” she tells a dazed Nayeon before going up the stairs. She has a firm grip on her shoulders, and a warm cheek against her neck. The position is a great help to hide Nayeon’s vigorous blush from the intimacy of it, but she’s sure Sana can feel how warm from the blood rush her face is.

 

The staircase feels like it goes on forever, but when she opens her eyes she realizes they weren’t long at all. (Even without the weed, she never had a good perception of time.)

 

“Here,” she says, struggling to get on one knee and place her down gently. But Nayeon is still heavily out of it, thinking the few inches between her and the bed are a few meters, and grabs Sana’s arm.

 

“Nayeon…” she says, almost on top of her but clearly trying not to be. “I can’t leave the store unattended. I’ll come back okay? Get some rest.” She shakes off Nayeon’s grip, jogging to the stairs before disappearing from her view completely.

 

Nayeon mumbles to herself, stretching out on the bed.

 

“Softer than Dahyun’s,” she drools out to herself. It’s easy enough for her to steadily fall asleep. Because without Dahyun, she was used to napping in the oddest places while high. But she’s happy to be somewhere soft and warm for once, and slips into sleep deeply.

 

_______

  
  


_ Relocating to a roof closer to the pool of people they’re supposed to watch, they crouch expertly near the ledge, taking a good look at everyone below.  _

 

_ But Nayeon takes the time to admire Sana first, loves and envies how easily she slips into work, how fast she can examine a soul, how pretty she looks doing it. _

 

_ “Found a bad omen,” she says, white pupils telling Nayeon she’s still staring through them, pointing to where he stands. _

 

_ It’s a guy smoking a cigarette, leaning incredulously on a lightpost. His eyes dart around as if he’s searching for something, and from his mannerisms alone Nayeon can tell it’s a classic case of a supposedly “good guy” doing a lot of wrong. Still, she examines him anyway, takes a lot of her energy to dig up his past (she wasn’t as good as it as Sana was), and sees his wall of faults. _

 

_ “Wow,” Nayeon says simply. Sana nods beside her, warm brown eyes back to normal now. She gives her a small smile, the one Nayeon adored to no end. It was usually easy for her to slip into the seriousness the task at hand required too, but Sana was always a distraction - her inspiration and setback all in one. If time allowed her, she’d tell her how dearly she loves her, but they have other things to deal with. _

 

_ “Do you want to mark him?” Sana asks. Though Sana was academically and physically superior between them, neither of them were very good at marking. It was one of the training days they skipped to go makeout somewhere discreet only to come back and say one of them came down ill and needed the other’s care. To which many of the annoyed ones in their rank always questioned “why couldn’t your parents heal you?” and they always replied with “they were on a trek.”  _

 

_ They were very much outcasts in their rank, always training separately, always taking the oddest break hours together, and always late to mandatory group exercises. _

 

_ It’s why the role they graduated into together was perfect. Just each other, roaming the vast expanse of Earth together, trying their damndest to bring something good to it.  _

 

_ Nayeon extends her arm out, palm up and eyes pleading. Sana happily takes her hand as they stand up, jumping a couple rooftops together to get closer to him.  _

 

_ “Alright, catch me if I fall,” Sana says as she jumps for the top of the light post. She struggles to balance on top of it for a moment, making Nayeon’s heart jump. But she turns around to give her a smile and a teasing thumbs up. Nayeon sticks her tongue out at her when she isn’t looking, handing her the bow and incredibly tiny arrow. _

 

_ Sana aims for a long time, trying to line the shot up perfectly. It’s so tempting to startle her, but Nayeon had been scolded by higher ups for her playfulness far too many times. Which felt like pure favoritism at times, because Sana was just as playful, if not more playful. She figures Sana was just more mature about it, or better at timing it than her. Either way, Nayeon was deemed the more rebellious one, nearly being put on watch for it a dozen times while Sana only got warnings. Why Sana doesn’t switch partners for the sake of her rank baffles her, and she’s asked her that plenty of times, only to be silenced by a kiss and a million because I love you’s. _

 

_ “Hey, Sana?” she says after she successfully marks him, watches as he believes it’s a mosquito, then continues to go on about his day. _

 

_ “What?” she says, throwing the bow on the roof next to Nayeon, waiting for her to come and help her down. _

 

_ She grabs her by the waist and sets her down gently, spinning her around in her arms. _

 

_ “I love you,” she hums.  _

 

_ Sana faces her, throwing her arms around her neck. Nayeon moves her hands down to her hips, lessening the gap between them to do nothing but admire the girl. _

 

_ “I love you too,” she says, kissing her cheek. Nayeon feels all fuzzy inside at the kiss, smiling uncontrollably as Sana hugs her. _

 

_ “As much as I love this,” she says against her neck, sighing sadly. “We can’t leave the city unattended, you know.” _

 

_ Nayeon nods, reluctantly breaking their embrace. “Let’s speed it up then, shall we? I’ll take rooftops, you take the streets.” _

 

_ “Why do you get the rooftops?” Sana whines. _

 

_ “You’re pretty and have a way with words I could never compete with,” Nayeon says, “plus, you’re more thorough anyway.” _

 

_ “Fine,” she groans. “Only because you complimented me so sweetly.” _

 

_ “Any time, my love,” Nayeon bows. “See you at sunset?” _

 

_ “I’ll be there,” Sana says before gracefully jumping into the nearest alley. Nayeon takes the opposite way, scanning the people below tediously as she gets into position. _

 

_______

  
  


“Nayeon, wake up,” she hears distantly. 

 

The request nags on and on for awhile until Nayeon recognizes the dreamy voice, eyes shooting open abruptly.

 

“Ugh,” Nayeon groans, covering her tired eyes. There’s a light way too strong beaming at her, making her roll over onto her front.

 

She holds her shoulders and shakes her. “Come on, you can't sleep forever.”

 

“If only I could,” she mumbles after a scoff.

 

Sana sighs, sitting next to the mattress defeatedly. 

 

“What’s there to wake up to anyway?” she says without thinking, too drowsy to hold herself back. She definitely dreamt last night, and it’s sticking to her tongue with a terrible aftertaste and putting her in a terrible mood. It shouldn’t bother her, she can barely remember any of it now anyway, but everything in it hurt, made her shiver, put her in a cold sweat. “I’m not even safe in my dreams,” she laughs, hand skating across the sheets and touching something warm, soft…  _ heavenly _ .

 

“I just want to help you out,” she says under her breath. And Nayeon realizes the thing she’s touching is Sana’s hand, and it hurts Nayeon’s heart to feel how gently she plays with it.

 

“But can you? Can anyone  _ really _ ?”

 

Sana is silent for a while, thinking it over. It’s quiet for a long time, almost long enough to put Nayeon back to sleep. But she hears a soft spoken question from Sana:

 

“At what moment in your life were you the happiest?”

 

Nayeon sniffles. The question hurts her a bit, almost shooting her a  _ there is none _ out of pure rage. Her brain tells her to think it through, though. Tells her there’s no point in snapping at a complete stranger that’s been nothing but kind to her that way, or anyone for that matter. 

 

_ Negativity breeds negativity _ , an old, deranged man told her one day. Maybe Nayeon dreamt him up, too, though, as she was on a horrible acid trip that day. She wonders how Dahyun knows of such terrible substances, but never cares enough to ask.

 

On the topic of Dahyun, her mind circles back to the question. All she can think of was the day she met Dahyun, how she proclaimed their friendship the same day. And also when she met Sana’s father, who was more than willing to let her play with a guitar worth four figures. Both required a great amount of trust that Nayeon had never been given before, or even knew existed.

 

“Meeting my friend… my best friend, Dahyun,” she finally says. She doesn’t know why saying it aloud gives her the urge to cry, but she feels the pillow dampen underneath her soon after.

 

“And why did it make you happy?”

 

“She trusted me, a thieving, starving, little kid on a playground. It’s funny, because I pickpocketed a few kids that day. She would’ve been next if she didn’t tell me she wanted to play tag with me. Weird how that worked out, huh?” she laughs sadly. All of a sudden she feels as though she’s taken her for granted, bolting away before Dahyun can ever get too close to her. Even so she never considered her less than her best friend from then to now.

 

“You’re still close to her now?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Sana nods.

 

“I… you know, you made me realize how shitty of a friend I am,” she says, voice cracking.

 

“I’m sure you’re not. You’re just hurt,” she says, then after a pause, “but you can't justify hurting those that love you because of that.”

 

“I know…” she says, voice muffled by the pillows. “I’m just… tired. Physically, mentally…”

 

Sana rubs Nayeon’s hand with her thumb, trying the only way she knows how to soothe her pain. 

 

“I understand. You have more than enough reasons to feel that way. But don’t swat away a helping hand. There’s a happy ending for you out there somewhere. Let us help you find it.”

 

This startles her fully awake now, thinking back to what Dahyun told her. She never thought she’d catch herself being dismissive, or how it could push anyone away… but the realization strikes her like a blow to the head at Sana’s hurt voice.

 

“I’m sorry,” she says. “Really.”

 

“It’s okay. It’s not like I’ve known you for years like that girl has. You should probably let  _ her  _ know you’re sorry, not me,” Sana smiles cheerfully, raising a white paper bag up with her other hand as Nayeon scrambles to sit up.

 

“Before you do that, though. I brought you breakfast!” she says, putting it down in her lap. It’s still warm.

 

“Ah, you really shouldn’t have-“

 

“AH!” she stops her. “What did I just tell you?” she says playfully, slapping her cheek softly. “No more of that. We’re acquaintances now, which means I can help you as I choose.  AKA you sleep here, you eat here. No exceptions. Got it?”

 

Nayeon can’t help but smile wide. “Alright, acquaintance. Thank you.”

 

Sana looks up at her with the happiest look she’s ever seen. Then gets up and throws a hoodie over her head. “Not intentional, but you look and feel extra cold. So take that too.”

 

Nayeon opens her mouth to argue, but catches herself and continues chewing. “I’ll cherish it forever and ever,” she says sarcastically. But truthfully, she probably will.

 

“Yeah, yeah, it's whatever,” she says with a smirk. “Now, I’ve got a lot of shit to do. The store is supposed to open in thirty minutes and all that’s on are the lights. Big festival equals big busy. I’ll see you later,” she says with finality, but stops at the doorway.

 

“And if I don’t, I’ll leave the staff entrance open. Just make sure you lock it behind you,” she says with a wave, then she’s gone, creaking of the stairs the only indication she was here.

 

_

  
  


Nayeon carefully climbs up the drain pipe up the side of the house, gripping it with every bit of energy she has. Her feet slip here and there, but she’s done this plenty of times before, so it’s an otherwise easy climb to the roof. She walks along the tiles carefully, trying not to alert anyone else who may be in the house.

 

The home stretch is in view when she sees Dahyun’s infamous Jigglypuff plushie smushed against the window, still slowly and surely making her way over to it.

 

Once she’s there she knocks on the glass a couple times, unsure if she’s even in her room. Then she sees the bright top of her head flip the rest of her bright hair to the side, hearing the sounds of scuffling before he window finally opens.

 

“You could have rang the bell, you know,” Dahyun says once Nayeon leaps from the windowsill to her bed.

 

“That isn’t as grand of a gesture,” she says simply, kicking off her shoes and sitting cross legged on her bed.

 

Dahyun rolls her eyes, then sits back in the computer chair she was in before.

 

“What’s up?” she says, leaning back and getting swallowed by the chair. Nayeon always thought it was cute how tiny she is.

 

“Nothing. Just wanted to hang out with you,” she says, cuddling one of Dahyun’s many stuffed animals. Nayeon’s personal favorite was the chibi t-rex.

 

“Is there still leftover weed in your system?” Dahyun laughs.

 

“No. But, since you mention it, I have to talk to you about-“

 

Dahyun is sitting through her computer desk drawers, pulling out a bong and a small bag.

 

Nayeon laughs. “Dahyun, no. This is important. I’m not here just to get high or whatever,” she says the words as sincerely as possible. She doesn’t continue until she puts it all away.

 

“What I came to say was that I appreciate you. And wanted to thank you for supporting me through my misery that I inexcusably make you feel like shit for sometimes.”

 

Dahyun only blinks. She continues to until her eyes seem to form tears.

 

“You mean that?”

 

“I do,” Nayeon smiles. “When you told me to stop running away from the good things… I don’t know, it kind of made me realize I might be hurting you. It’s like… I truly  _ am  _ running away from everything good, and I don’t want to finally realize that when you’re nothing but a indistinguishable dot when I look back for you.” She leaves out Sana, who brought her closer to that conclusion. Nayeon would rather not have her misunderstand.

 

“I don’t think you should apologize for your feelings… but thank you for apologizing for your actions,” she says, smile growing before she gets up and tackles her onto the bed.

 

Nayeon knows she’ll struggle with positivity until the end of time, but if it’ll make the two people in her life this happy…

 

Then maybe she can fake it.

 

_

  
  


After an eventful day of Mario Kart-ing, Nayeon finds herself on the boardwalk at 1am.   
  
She was just asking to get jumped at this point, but it’s not like she has anything anyway.   
  
Dahyun had been wary, initially asking her not to go, but Nayeon told her why she was so adamant on coming back. It would nag at her all night long knowing the back entrance was open, that someone worse off than Nayeon could stumble in and start wrecking things, maybe stealing, who knows. Part of her knows it’s just her experiences manifesting into a pill sized form of anxiety, one she hates swallowing, but it was better to be safe than sorry.   
  
Her switchblade is sitting comfortably in her right hand, and her mind is on overdrive as she silently makes her way to the shop. Instinct tells her to hide whenever she hears a car, flick out her blade whenever she hears a noise, but adrenaline tells her to just run for it.   
  
And adrenaline - sweet, savory adrenaline - wins her over. There was no doubt in her mind that adrenaline was a product of fear, and she’d rather be a coward than mince meat.   
  
There’s some sounds Nayeon doesn’t trust in the alleyway leading to the back, and the switchblade clangs out out of instinct. The sharp sound of the blade coming out must scare whatever it is off, because a bush rustles before she hears the small sounds of something running off. It tells her to make quick work with the door, slamming it shut and locking it as fast as her hands allow her. Maybe her heart would be racing if this kind of fear wasn’t secondhand nature to her, but she breathes normally all the way up to the little attic and slumps onto the mattress without a second thought.

 

_______

  
  


_ “Funny how the world feels so far away when it’s right in front of me,” Nayeon says to herself. No one can hear her, not from the top of this tree. _

 

_ She looks down at the life below her. It’d be a lie if she said she wasn’t jealous, both of which she’d get in trouble for admitting. Still, it’s hard not to wonder. Especially with the scene in front of her. _

 

_ A group of kids pretend to sword fight with sticks, a couple watches the sun manipulate the sky, and an old pair walk their excited little pup through the park. Not to mention the birds excitedly leaping around in a nest underneath her, or the crisp pond disrupted by an overzealous fish, teasing the fisherman as he struggles to reel back in and recast the bobble. _

 

_ Life was beautiful - effortlessly so. _

 

_ Nayeon looks over to the sun’s bed, squinting at the intensity for a moment before looking away. Sana would come searching for her if she didn’t head back to where they were staying soon. She hates the confinement of the motel, but the last time she made Sana worry, Sana didn’t so much as laugh for a good week. Her self control was amazing, underneath it all. _

 

_ In fact, there were many things that Sana could do that amazed Nayeon. Because that’s exactly what she was: amazing. Who else could deal with someone so emotional as Nayeon while being just as emotional herself? Sana was much too good for this world, and although luck was man made, Nayeon couldn’t help but think it applied. _

 

_ “Sorry I’m late,” is the first thing she says upon entering their room. Sana is laying on the couch, draped in a robe and adorably focused on the TV. Her mouth hangs open slightly like a kid in wonderment, and Nayeon throws her legs over Sana’s as she plops down next to her. _

 

_ Sana blinks, turning her attention to Nayeon. When she smiles, Nayeon feels the room turn into a home. Then turns into a dream home once she giggles. Sana climbs over her until she can rest her head on her chest, hugging her tightly as they breathe in time together. Nayeon runs her fingers through Sana’s silky hair, and they begin speaking softly to one another as they share what they saw. Nayeon in particular gets excited to share, telling her in great detail about everything she saw in the park specifically. _

 

_ “And the kids,” she laughs at one point, almost sadly for some unknown reason, “they kind of reminded me of us. When we used to scrimmage all the time and wrestle over absolutely everything.” _

 

_ “Who would win one of those now, ya think?” Sana says, raising her torso by her arms to be face to face with Nayeon. _

 

_ “Still me,” she says, purposefully colliding noses with her. _

 

_ “You sure about that?” Sana says, poking her chest. _

 

_ “Positive.” _

 

_ “I guess we’ll see,” she says with her ever so lilting laugh, then tickling Nayeon into oblivion. _

 

_______

  
  


“What’s this?”

 

Nayeon is too tired to move and see what she’s looking at, settling on a “Mmm?”

 

Sana crouches down and picks her switchblade up. Nayeon curses under her breath, wishing she put it under her pillow like she did last time.

 

“This?” Her thumb pops the blade out, and all she does is sigh.

 

“Do you really need this?”

 

“You’d be surprised,” Nayeon responds, voice raspy and light.

 

“ _ Have _ you ever used it?”

 

She mulls it over.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Nayeon-“

 

“Not like that. Just to scare someone away. In fact, it was the only way I got in here safely,” her brain is cooperating and helping her remember last night in her drowsy state. Thankfully letting her conveniently omit the other times she used it. Picking locks, slashing Dahyun on accident when she snuck up on her, and an entourage of other things she’s not proud of.

 

“What do you mean? Did someone try to hurt you?” she lays on the empty side of the bed, facing Nayeon.

 

“I don’t know if I’m just paranoid,” she admits, “but I heard… some noise. It sounded like someone struggling with a bush. As if someone was around the corner, ready to strike.”

 

“You really have been hurt too much,” Sana says, hand cupping Nayeon’s cheek. Her thumb caresses her skin, massaging the area around her cheekbone. “It was probably just a skunk, babe.”

 

Nayeon goes through a rollercoaster of emotions after she says that. Stupid, because she could be right. Enraged, because Nayeon  _ knows _ what happens around here, has  _ seen it with her own eyes _ . And a little nervous, because, well, Sana called her babe, and she  _ is _ human now after all.

 

“I guess,” is all she can muster. Trying to keep calm sucked the little bit of energy she had out of her.

 

“I’m taking it, by the way.”

 

“What?”

 

“I’m not giving it back. Your switchblade.”

 

Nayeon sits up, anxiety clogging her throat. “No. I don’t think-“

 

Sana sits up, too, waiting for her to continue. But she doesn’t, and she can’t, because Sana puts a hand on her knee and the touch feels like  _ home _ . It hurts and soothes her all at once, and if she couldn’t speak before she really can't now, not with how overwhelmed she is right now. She doesn’t know why, but it feels familiar. A feeling that multiplies when she finally speaks, words Nayeon has heard from her before somehow:

 

“I’ll protect you.”

 

Nayeon nods, calming down as the feeling fades. It’s easy to let it slip from her grasp. She doesn’t feel like trying to figure it out right now. There’s no point.

 

“Now, I have a gift for you, well… err,  _ gifts _ ,” she hops up on her feet. “Wait here.”

 

Again, she catches herself before she begins to say  _ no, don’t help me. _ She hates the pity deep down, but how else would she get over this hurdle in her life? The one she’s been trying to jump ever since she saw it, the hurdle that grew with her instead of shrinking. (Was she listening to Sana this easily? After so many people’s words went through one ear and out the other?)

 

Sana lugs a big laundry sack up the stairs, with a drawstring bag on her shoulder. She insists that she has it, but Nayeon runs over and helps her anyway.

 

“If I can’t reject help, neither can you,” she says, finally getting the chunky bag through the slim stairway and into the attic.

 

“I have one more thing!” she says before running down and back up the stairs in record speed. It’s a huge lunch box and even bigger thermos.

 

“You like coffee?” she asks, pushing the coffee table strewn to the side in front of the bed.

 

“Hell yeah,” Nayeon responds, rolling up her sleeves and unzipping the box. There’s little styrofoam cups, fruits, sandwiches, and a note on the bottom. Sana sees her eyeing it and swats her hand away.

 

“You can’t read it until we eat everything,” she scolds. “Now dig in.”

 

“Yes, ma’am.”

 

-

 

Little did Nayeon know, Sana went above and beyond.

 

She started with a note, that only said “for you!” with an array of guitar picks taped to it. It was touching, probably too touching as Nayeon is convinced her heart soars father than she could reach herself because of it. 

 

After thanking her over and over again for the food and picks, Sana throws the drawstring in her lap, telling her to  _ shut up and open it _ in the cutest way possible. It’s more simple, practical things. A wallet, keys to the guitar shop, hygienic things, and a wad of cash. About $150 dollars.

 

“Three fourths of my check working here,” she says. Nayeon pretends to understand for her sake.

 

Before she can spew out more sorry’s and thank you’s, she pulls the laundry bag over. A part of her knew this was coming from the bag alone, but she’s still shocked by the contents. She’s met with a ton of new clothes, everything from head to toe she could ever need. 

 

Nayeon doesn’t know how to feel at this point. 

 

There is nothing she feels she has done to deserve even one of these things, and she doesn’t have to vocalize it for Sana to know that. 

 

“For your struggles,” she throws a reassuring arm around her shoulder.

 

“Are you sure you’re like… okay enough to even give me all of this?”

 

“Trust me, I’m not hurting for clothes or money,” she ruffles her hair. “Even if I was, you’re a worthy investment.”

 

“What are you investing in exactly?” she laughs.

 

“The guarantee of your wellbeing,” she answers contentedly. “I can’t say that I wouldn’t do this for anyone, because I’m the emotional sort, always ready to throw myself at someone in need.” Sana’s tone shifts, less playful and more serious now.

 

“But I do feel an odd, deeply rooted connection to you, to be quite honest,” Nayeon wants to shout how much she agrees, especially after what happened just moments ago, but she doesn’t interrupt. “And even if it’s all in my head, you still deserve a second try at life, since you’ve never even got a legitimate first. If you ever need anything, just ask, okay? To talk, to help, whatever. You didn’t see it, but I put one of my old phones in the bag too. It has my number if you decide to up and leave the shop for good.”

 

“I won’t,” Nayeon says, holding Sana’s hand that rests on her shoulder. “I’ll try and be more open and honest and… positive,” she smiles. “I won’t lie, it’s been a struggle to even fake the positivity.”

 

“Thanks for trying for me, though,” her breath leaves tingles on her skin as she speaks. She’s close now, faces practically touching. Nayeon doesn’t know what to do or what to say, just squeezes her hand and flashes her a nervous smile. Then Sana leans even closer, and for a moment Nayeon thinks she might kiss her, but she just hug tackles her into the bed, laughing the whole way down.

 

“How are your blisters?” she says. Their position is odd for a hug, with Sana’s knee between her legs and her body clinging to her side. She props her head up on one hand, opening her palm and messing with the band aids on Nayeon’s hand with the other.

 

“I popped them. I couldn’t help it. Sorry,” another use for her switchblade, but she doesn’t mention it.

 

“That’s fine,” she laughs. “My dad always popped his. Hated missing more than a day or two of practicing.”

 

“Yeah, the skin was raw for a day, but I feel fine now,” she’s getting comfortable underneath Sana, free hand coming up to hug her waist.

 

“Do you think you can play again? Dad said to close the shop for today, but… I want to hear you play in full this time,” she asks sweetly. 

 

Nayeon doesn’t hesitate. “Yes… of course, let’s head down now.”

  
  


_______

  
  


_ If there’s one thing Nayeon loved about being a guardian other than sharing every waking moment with Sana, it was street performers. _

 

_ It was a treat to ever come across one, let alone a band like the one in front of her. Sana has fallen in love with the art too, almost always having bouts of infatuation with the guitarists. Nayeon never got… jealous… per say, but she always argued that the bassists were cooler. That they didn’t need crazy solos to move a crowd, just rhythmic ones. Sana never agreed, always arguing that their solos weren’t just flashy. They showcased years of skill and dedication. _

 

_ As petty as Nayeon was, she scanned the band, pointing out that the bassist had been in the music scene for longer than the guitarist. But Sana just rolled her eyes and told her to enjoy the music. And no matter how many times Nayeon could disagree with her partner, no bone in her body could flat out say “no,” to her. _

 

_ LAs if she would ever desire to,” she always said when Sana questioned her obedience.  _

 

_ This time around the band was clearly not well off. Their instruments were dented, dirt caked their clothes, and the words on their money jar had began to fade. Sana put every last penny she came with into the jar, while Nayeon threw a small portion of hers. _

 

_ They nodded as a sign of thanks and continued playing. And they go on for what feels like hours. Hours which Nayeon would happily witness every second of. But Sana drags them away. Far, far away. _

 

_ “Really?” Sana eyed her once they were far from any human populace. _

 

_ “What?” Nayeon said, genuinely confused. But she can read Sana, just like anyone else. (And as her partner… the only other guardian she could read anyway.) “Is it not against everything we stand for to just give out handouts?” _

 

_ “You saw how poorly they were. Hell, you saw every moment in their lives leading up to that point, saw every struggle they went through, and couldn’t spare more than a couple singles of mortal currency?” Sana was clearly upset with her. It didn’t happen often, but Sana wasn’t a stranger to keeping her in check. No matter how far Nayeon strayed, Sana brought her back. _

 

_ But this time, well… Nayeon felt a bit more rebellious. _

 

_ “I’m just saying. Everyone else watching them probably work just as hard, and we didn’t give them money,” she shrugs, flicking a grape up into the air. Sana catches it before it lands in her mouth. Nayeon scoffs at her, then takes the vine and grabs a dozen more. _

 

_ “What? Did I not work just as hard for that grape as you?” she mocks. _

 

_ “Whatever. Can we drop this conversation?” she asks. Nayeon hated making her upset. She didn’t want to hear another minute of it. _

 

_ “Sure,” she says bluntly.  _

 

_ Her tone bothers Nayeon to know end. She knows Sana, knows after every argument she reassures her she loves her, but this time, she just stares off into the distance.  _

 

_ “Sana? Are you still mad at me?” _

 

_ Sana looks at her bare wrist. “It’s been a few seconds, but… yeah, totally, I’m 100% not disappointed in you or anything.” _

 

_ Nayeon sighs. “I’m sorry. How can I make it up to you?” _

 

_ “In the long run, it won’t hurt me, you know,” she says, finally looking Nayeon in the eyes again. _

 

_ “I know. I’ll go back and give them the rest of the money and-“ _

 

_ “Stop.” The interruption startles Nayeon. A couple grapes fall to their feet before Sana cups her chin. _

 

_ “It won’t be coming for your heart. Next time, just harbor a little more positivity in your heart,” she tells her softly, kissing her lips chastely. “You should know better. This is the sort of thing we’re trained to do.” _

 

_ “I know,” Nayeon slumps forward. “It’s just… really overwhelming lately. Sometimes, I wish we didn’t hold so much importance on our shoulders. Everything just gets more difficult. To keep our secret and, of course, hit the marks at roll call. It’s a lot to balance. I feel chained.” _

 

_ “We’ll be fine. We don’t have much left to do. Don’t give up on me now,” she sounds sad, defeated. Nayeon knows she feels the same. _

 

_ “I won’t.” _

 

_ “I love you,” Sana finally says. Nayeon would say it back if her lips weren’t being smothered. _

 

_ (Not that she’s complaining). _

 

_______

  
  


After some playing, the initial pain goes away, and she’s hammering on the frets to her heart’s content. She is far past being nervous to play in front of others. Nearly a year of playing for Mr. Toe and his many customers did that for her. There is a slight sweat in her palms she doesn’t usually get this time around, though. Sana’s gaze is intense and immersed. Her stare is more intense than a thousand people, and she slips up here and there, stuttering her apologies. 

 

“No need to apologize. I’m just happy to see you play,” she said... each and every single time.

 

The way she talks eases her nerves. It stirs her stomach at times, but truly... helps way more than it hurts.

 

“Thank you,” she always answers back, voice full of hope.

 

Maybe the world wasn’t full of demons after all.

  
  


_______

  
  


_ Sana watches hopelessly from afar.  _

 

_ Nayeon wasn’t ready to take something like this on, and to watch her suffer hurt more than the two gashes in her own back.  _

 

_ It felt like a set up. Watching her fight something with so much more grandeur while forced to sit on the sidelines. Sana never expected this. A demotion, maybe. Sent back to the sectors, most definitely. But this? _

 

_ Nayeon cries out, each noise stabbing Sana in her soul. _

 

_______

  
  


“Sana, this is Dahyun. Dahyun, this is Sana,” Nayeon says, struggling to mediate between them with the guitar on her. She puts it down gently, in the same place it’s been for all of Nayeon’s time with it.

 

“Nice to meet you,” they say in unison. They exchange nervous laughter and clammy handshakes.

 

“Ah, sorry, I have terribly sweaty hands,” she wipes them on her thighs, shaking her head as she does so.

 

“It’s alright. They’re soft, I gotta say,” she nudges Dahyun and Nayeon both, who stare at her with fake disgust.

 

“Anyways,” Nayeon laughs, punching Sana’s arm softly. “Ice cream?”

 

“HELL FUCKING YEA!!!!!” Dahyun yells, first one out the door as Sana and Nayeon linger behind.

 

“Gotta love her,” Nayeon smiles proudly, sliding in front of Sana when she reaches for the door. “No, no, no, allow  _ me _ ,” she opens the door gracefully, head down as she directs her out. 

 

“Wow, what an angel. Thank you. Shall we?” she lifts her elbow up, and Nayeon complies. Dahyun sulks ahead of them. Complaining that they’re walking too slow (and that she feels like a third wheel).

 

“You could have just asked,” Nayeon says, lifting her other arm for Dahyun to take. 

 

There’s plenty of shops on the boardwalk, but not  _ one  _ ice cream shop. Thankfully each other’s company suffices as they walk about a half and hour out, (plus the twenty minutes just on the boardwalk) and finally settle on gas station icees and water.

 

It’s one of the most carefree days Nayeon has ever had. Simple, sure. But something feels so  _ right _ . Nothing hurts. Only her cheeks from laughing.

 

_______

  
  


_ Sana stares at the faces in the stands, looking for the one soul who could possibly be happy to see this. How does anyone know the things her and Nayeon did? _

 

_______

  
  


Dahyun says her goodbyes and walks off. The park they went to wasn’t too far from her house, and apparently neither was Sana’s. It got late far too fast in their opinion, but they had things to do tomorrow, and as much as Nayeon would like to be selfish and keep them out longer, she’d never do that to them. Not after everything they’ve done for her.

 

Sana lingers a bit longer, hugging Nayeon longer, squeezing her harder. Her grip is tight as she rocks them back and forth.

 

“Thank you, by the way,” she says into her shoulder.

 

Nayeon rubs her back. “For what?”

 

“For playing for me the other day. It’s been a fun week getting to know you.”

 

“Mmm,” Nayeon hums happily at her sentiment.

 

“And as your newfound friend, I promise to fill the rest of your life with happiness. You, just cooperate with me and play some of my favorite songs for me. Sound like a deal?” she says, holding her wrists and looking at her sincerely.

 

_ Ranked up to friends, I see _ . Nayeon nods enthusiastically. “Promise. Any songs in mind?”

 

“Running by No Doubt?”

 

“Ooh, romantic. Who’s the one lucky enough to have your love?” Nayeon teases, poking her sides, then her cheek.

 

“Don’t overthink it loser, it’s just a song,” she laughs, throwing her arms around her neck again.

 

“Stay safe… please,” she begs, voice dropping, hand massaging the back of Nayeon’s neck.

 

“I’ll be fine. Just have fun at your college campus visits, alright?”

 

“Okay, okay. I put my current number on that old phone by the way. I said it before, I know, but humor me. So text me when you get to the shop, okay? I gave you that hunk of metal for a reason,” she lets go of her, and suddenly Nayeon feels ten degrees colder.

 

“I will, no doubt,” she smiles at her dumb joke, and bursts out laughing when it takes Sana a minute to get it.

 

“Alright, let me head home for real. I could stand here and talk to you all night,” she groans.

 

“Would that be a bad thing?” she prods.

 

Sana rolls her eyes. “Not at all.”

 

Nayeon nods, flashing a smile full of pride. 

 

She watches Sana walk away for a moment. A long moment. 

 

(She can’t help it.)

 

“Wait, before you go,” she runs up and gives her one last hug from behind, snuggling into her back. “Thank you for everything. Seriously.”

 

Sana turns around and takes her hand, kissing the back of it. “Of course.”

 

They stare in comfortable silence for a few beats.

 

“Nayeon.”

 

“What?”

 

“I can’t help it.”

 

“What?”

 

“I have to ask…”

 

“C’mon, I’m no good with surprises,” Nayeon bounces on her feet.

 

“Can I kiss you?”

 

Nayeon blushes immediately. “Oh,  _ oh _ …”

 

“It’s alright… if you say no, I-“

 

“No, no no no no. Shut up. Yes, you can kiss me,” she laughs.

 

Sana bridges the gap slowly, eyes closed, head tilted. Nayeon doesn’t really know how she knows what to do, but she tilts her head the opposite way. Closes her eyes, and counts to ten in her head.

 

But Sana’s lips meet her at eight, and barely get through seven.

 

“See you later! Text me!” she yells as she runs off.

 

“I will,” she says, nothing but a dove in the wind as it doesn’t make it to Sana’s ears.

 

_______

 

There’s a lot of sounds. Too many sounds.

 

Unrecognizable sounds.

 

Nayeon doesn’t remember much, just knows she didn’t make it to the guitar shop that night.

 

It’s cold.  _ Everything is cold _ .

 

“Nayeon?” she hears, just before drifting right back under.


End file.
